Midnight Serenade
by SavvyDawn
Summary: A vignette set somewhere before Barbossa and Crew attack Port Royal in CotBP.  Oneshot for now.  Little bit o' fluff, little bit o' plot.  Read and enjoy!


**_Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean; those rights belong to Disney._**

Elizabeth stood at the front of the ship dreaming up fantastic adventures in her young mind as she peered out into the dense fog hovering over the seawater. Then she saw it. A person...a boy! A young boy had floated up towards the ship, either knocked out or dead—she couldn't tell.

"Look, look! There's a boy in the water!" she yelled for someone, anyone's help. The crew rushed to her side and peered out into the water. A few of the men lowered a ladder and hoisted him onto the ship.

He didn't appear to be any younger than Elizabeth and his tattered clothing revealed he had been subject to the harsh servitude of life as a cabin boy. Already his hands and knees were rough with blisters and bruises, and his feet and legs bore deep, unforgiving cuts.

He bore the mark of a pirate in the middle of his forehead clear enough to distinguish him from across the room. His long scraggly hair that fell just below his eyes covered it up at first, but with all the handling it had taken to pull him out of the water, the rebel hairs had willingly revealed the mark from its hiding place. A crewman nearly dropped the boy at the sight of his forehead and almost again at seeing the well-known half-scull on the golden medallion around Will's neck. Commodore Norrington peered down at Will with a smirk on his pristine face already deciding Will's fate without taking even a moment to reconsider.

"Throw him back where he came from!" the commodore ordered.

"What?! You can't! He's badly hurt and has done nothing to deserve this!" Elizabeth cut in.

"Whatever do you mean, Lizzie? Of course he does, honey, he's a scalawag, a... a... a _pirate_!" exclaimed Gov. Swann.

"He is not! He needs our help and--"

"That is enough, young lady!" her father interrupted.

By now, tears had begun to cloud Elizabeth's vision; still, she could see well enough to witness the men viciously strip Will of his bearings and dump him back into the dark waters, still oblivious to what was going on around him. She ran to the railings of the ship and helplessly watched Will sink into the water lower and lower and lower...

X X X X X

Elizabeth awoke with a start, with small beads of sweat gathering at her forehead. She had had that dream again about the day she met Will, except this time, it had much more of a twist to it. It had been so vivid that she could smell the sea water around her and could feel the gently sway of the ship under her feet.

She looked outside and saw the bright, full moon hanging protectively over quiet Port Royal.

"It was only a dream," she whispered in the darkness. Her heart pounded and she could feel the heat of her own sweat all over her body and under her thin shift. She sat up and climbed out of bed, feeling the cool hardwood floor under her bare feet. It was all she could do to breathe in a normal, less sporadic way again after the terrible dream she had had.

She glanced over at her night stand and noticed her glass and water pitcher were both empty. She decided to not disturb the entire house with her callings for the maid and just go get her own water from the downstairs kitchen. Estrella never gave her enough, anyway, her theory always being "the lady would have to make an unnecessary trip to the toilet in that case."

Elizabeth had always loved the old house. She loved the staff, the smell, the creaks it made in the middle of the night or if you stepped on the hardwood floors with no shoes on. Ever since she and her father moved in a several years ago, she had fallen in love with the property and knew she could always call it home. Still, she knew there was more to life than life in Port Royal and had always felt the sense of urgency and action upon her. She briefly eyed the large pictures hanging on the wall just before the staircase and admired how beautifully the portraits were painted.

They were perfect.

Elizabeth walked into the kitchen and found her French poodle curled up on his blanket, fast asleep. She only stirred once at the gentle sound of the ruffle of Elizabeth's nightgown. Elizabeth stood at the wide window looking out over the mansion's massive front yard and watch as the threatening rain clouds swiftly bellowed overhead.

With little more excitement than what her poodle had shown towards her, Elizabeth noticed a slightly lumpy, hunched over mass sitting on the front step of her home. Nearly dropping the glass of water in her hand, she quickly made her way towards the front door and grabbed a long, pointed umbrella from its holder close by. She crept up to the curtains and looked out carefully so as not to be seen by this intruder. It didn't see her; it seemed to be facing the yard and sitting on the top step waiting. But for what?

She clutched the makeshift weapon in her hand and felt the cool doorknob on her fingertips. Quietly unlocking the door and opening it, she raised the umbrella above her head and yelled, "What are you doing here?!"

"Don't hit me! It's Will!" the "intruder" exclaimed.

To her surprise, before her stood a wide-eyed, perspiring Will Turner, his arms up in defense. Elizabeth immediately let out a gasp in both fear and relief at the familiar face.

"Will! What on earth are you doing here on this porch? And at this hour, no less?"

His eyes shifted to the ground. "I...umm.." Elizabeth walked over to where he was on the top step and sat down with him.

"Well? Let's have it then," she prodded.

"Miss Swann, I just--"

"Will!" she interrupted. "How many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth? I mean you're on my porch in the middle of the night for goodness' sake!" He smiled quietly at her tenacity.

"At least once more, Miss Swann, as always," he genuinely spoke.

They looked out into the empty street for a moment and after a brief silence had passed between them, Elizabeth found herself staring at Will, enjoying the moment they were sharing.

"Will," she said at last, "you must be exhausted after a hard day of work. I know orders have been coming to your shop from all over Port Royal as well as other neighboring towns. I've heard people say you're employed at the best smithy in all of the Caribbean."

Will blushed at the comment given, but said nothing.

"So really, Will," she pushed, "why are you on this porch tonight?"

With much fervor he exclaimed, "Honestly, Miss Swann, how can I _not_ be on this porch tonight? There is talk all over the town about recent pirate attacks on nearby towns, and we are no exception since we are the wealthiest harbor."

Elizabeth sat a bit shocked at his sudden expression and said nothing. Will continued.

"It's you, Miss Swann, don't you see? I fear for your safety above all else and the thought of anything happening to you just breaks my..." –here he gazed out into the now pouring rain— "I just can't bear to think of you in any kind of danger, is all."

Elizabeth sat amazed at the effort Will had showed towards her and placed her hand gently on his shoulder.

"Will, you were that concerned with my well-being?" her hoarse voice forced out.

He turned his gaze from the rain to her eyes and whispered, "Yes." He cupped her cheek admiringly in his hand and smiled. "It's always been that way." She shuddered at the cool breeze the rain blew on her and at Will's warm, rough skin against hers.

"Elizabeth," he continued, altogether forgetting his manners, "there's something I need to tell you, even if there's nothing to be done about it. I just need you to know…at least once." Elizabeth could tell by the sober tone of his voice that Will was about to change their relationship forever. She swallowed hard in anticipation of the words she had so longed to hear out of his mouth, out of his heart.

"Elizabeth, I…" he began as he impulsively leaned in closer to her, careful not to push her away.

"Tell me, Will…" she whispered breathily through the thick night air.

"_Excuse_ me!" a shrill, excitable voice exclaimed with great passion. It belonged to Charles, the head butler of the mansion, and Elizabeth knew the meaning of that voice along with the prune-like expression he displayed. "What is the meaning of this…this union?!" he angrily asked.

"Charles! You frightened me! What are you doing up and about at this hour of the night?" Elizabeth asked.

Charles glowered at her, "I should be asking the same of you, Miss Swann. Well, out with it then!" He said as he crossed his arms across his chest and impatiently began waiting for answers. Will and Elizabeth looked at one another, not knowing what to do. Just as Will opened his mouth to offer an explanation, Elizabeth broke the silence.

"It was my fault, Master Charles. I invited him to...accompany me on a walk around the park..."

"After sunset?!" Charles broke in.

"...in order to watch the stars." Elizabeth finished. "You know how I adore watching the skies. In any case, our plans were spoiled when the storm unexpectedly rolled in, forcing us to stay put here on the portico."

Charles' only response was a loud snort and a swift turn indicating to Elizabeth she ought to follow. Taking the hint, Elizabeth walked after the butler when suddenly her arm was caught – Will had grabbed her. She was more shocked at the physical contact between them than of being stopped against her will. She looked at his fist around her arm for a brief moment before Will corrected his mistake and apologized for stepping out of line.

"I just didn't want you to go before asking why you took the blame for me." He explained. "What you did for me was not necessary and I never meant to cause trouble for you."

"No, I'm glad you came tonight, Will. Besides, I know I have a better chance of being pardoned than you do. I can handle a little scolding from my father." She said with a smile in the corner of her mouth. With one final glance behind her, she disappeared into the house, but not before leaving the umbrella for Will's protection against the storm.

Little did she know just how she had made his night.


End file.
